


You're Still You

by nightmare_kisser



Category: Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Fluff, Fluff and Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-18
Updated: 2014-11-18
Packaged: 2018-02-26 03:08:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,006
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2635745
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nightmare_kisser/pseuds/nightmare_kisser
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"That's not fair to you, Bucky," Steve frowns. "You're still you. And you can't try to live up to whatever ideal you think you used to embody. Just because you think you did some bad things -" </p><p>"I did, Steve. I killed people, good people," Bucky reminds darkly.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You're Still You

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lovelyladylass](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lovelyladylass/gifts).



> Dis fo my sista, yo. Because I made her dry and put away the dishes I didn't want to do. B')

When Steve first brings Bucky to his apartment, it's a year after finding him, and seven months of that year is spent convincing Bucky over and over that, "It's okay, you don't need to apologize," and, "Please come back with me," and that, "I miss you," and always, "I'm so glad I found you."

It's months' worth of easing Bucky into the world he's been sheltered from, and finer work of easing him into being himself again. The longer he's away from the procedures Hydra used to keep him obedient, calculating, and as the Winter Soldier, the more memories of being Bucky Barnes return to him. And the more he's shown of modern technology, the more he seems to understand about how things progressed during the years he was blind to all but his missions.

Even more delicately, it takes ages for Bucky to warm up to Steve. The familiarity of moving in tandem at Steve's side or knowing where he's going to move next is there, as well as the vague sense of solace in Steve's presence. However, from Bucky's perspective in his glitched and fractured mind, this man is a stranger and a man he fought, an enemy, and despite the pull in his veins, Bucky tip-toes around Steve. He doesn't initiate any casual contact; and yet, he doesn't exactly shy away from any that Steve initiates, either. 

Steve takes it all in stride. He gives Bucky room when Bucky needs it, without asking for it. And then he will turn around and invade Bucky's space like old times when Bucky needs it, but doesn't realize it. Steve never was the one who started the friendly pats or hugs or nudges very often, usually it was Bucky who did, so it takes some getting used to on both of their parts. Steve is happy to reverse the roles. 

What takes the longest, in fact, is getting to the point of Bucky allowing Steve to _call_ him "Bucky." From the moment he tracked down Bucky again and was able to get a quiet, tense, face-to-face talk with him, Bucky immediately insisted that he only be called "James." 

He's James Barnes and he knows this now, but he's not "Bucky." He doesn't remember being Bucky. He can only use James as his current alias, as his basis. It's a fresh start, both as an identity separate from the Winter Soldier, and as rediscovering himself. 

Steve calls him James, but only after many, many unconscious slips of "Buh-" in the beginning. 

It takes a long time, about a year, but after Steve consistently visiting Bucky and speaking with him, they are familiar enough for Steve to ask Bucky, and for Bucky to agree, to come see Steve's apartment. 

The first time Steve brings Bucky over, the first thing Bucky does is snort and say without thinking, "Who decorated for you?" 

He doesn't catch the way he implies he remembers how Steve's old home had been decorated, nor the way he vaguely remembers the last time he stepped foot in it before he was shipped out. 

"Erm, well. Natasha helped, since I'm terrible at deciding what goes together or what I even need to fill this place up," Steve remarks, rubbing the back of his head before ruffling his hair from back to front. he blows air out his mouth and gestures to the sofa. "So, uh, you can sit wherever you like. I don't usually have guests, so. I don't have much to drink, but I'll bring you anything you want." 

Bucky seems too stiff to sit down anywhere. He also seems too preoccupied with every other thought in his head to even tell whether or not he's thirsty enough for a drink. But Steve is waiting, so he simply shrugs and mutters, "Water's fine," before awkwardly and slowly taking steps around the apartment. 

He can see where they patched up bullet holes from his own gun when he shot Fury. He can see indications that certain items have been replaced; they don't match quite as smoothly as something of the same set might, but something close to the original set does. He feels a wash of guilt and swallows it down. He's surprised Steve didn't move, but then again, there is such a thing as too much change. And after all the changes the pair of them have had to endure due to the different time periods, moving might have been the straw that broke the camel's back. 

Steve is an unnaturally strong camel, however. But with or without memory, Bucky can tell that Steve internalizes too much, denies or shoves aside too much, and as far as he can read from the other man, Steve is only a few more changes or grieves away from shutting down or breaking down completely. Bucky knows, because he's only a few away from the same thing himself, and with each new memory he recovers, no matter how small, the guilt that follows from being the Winter Soldier weighs so heavily on him that he wonders if he will make it sanely to the next memory at all. 

"B- James. Here's your water. You sure you don't want to sit down? I'm getting jumpy just lookin' at ya." 

"...Sorry," Bucky says, pulled from his thoughts. He sips at the water just to do something, and is somehow surprised at how rejuvenating the cool liquid feels as it slips down his throat. He exhales softly and looks up. "It's just... a lot to take in. Where did you get some of this stuff?" 

Steve follows Bucky's gaze and gesturing hand to a few of the oldest things in the room. Captain America shield aside, there are fragments of his former life scattered about the living room. Old photos, small souvenirs things like a signed baseball, and antique toys. 

Steve picks up the baseball and tosses it between his hands, effortlessly catching it every time. "Oh, this junk? Some of it they gave to me to make me feel more at home when they got this apartment for me. They were going to give me all of it, the whole shebang, for free, but I insisted they wait until I'd made a few paychecks from SHIELD. Still, they threw this - I guess it's antique now - stuff in, probably because they thought it would help me not get lost in all the new technology. It does sort of help. And... one or two of these are really mine," he says, turning the baseball over to run his thumb over the signature, "Coulson had it in his personal collection, and Peggy kept a couple things, too. And once I was back, they just... said it rightly belonged to me, and that I should have it back." 

He tosses the baseball to Bucky. He catches it reflexively and blinks for a moment at Steve in humored confusion, then really looks at the object he's holding. 

He remembers this ball. 

It was a fly ball during the first game they ever went to together in Yankee Stadium. Steve had been too short to see past the guy in front of them, and when the ball was coming, Steve was the first to leap up and scream to catch it, so Bucky did. After the game, he pushed his way past a hundred people _at least_ to get it signed for Steve by the batter who knocked it out. Steve had been speechless, and insisted a thousand and one times that Bucky should keep it, it's his ball, he caught it and he got it signed, but after telling Steve a thousand and _two_ times that this ball was for him, Steve finally kept it. 

And he still has it. 

Bucky inhales and exhales shakily, gingerly putting the ball back on its stand. He looks around the room and suddenly knows instantly which of the antiques are Steve's and which are simply 30's and 40's memorabilia, and this startles him. He can't seem to remember much of his own life, any items he owned himself, but in this moment, he could recite chronologically nearly every toy or bike or even plate or glass or other kitchenware Steve had in his possession while growing up. It's al though everything he knows about his former self, he knows through Steve. Steve is, without a doubt, the greatest key to unlocking who James "Bucky" Barnes had been as a man... and as a friend. 

He sways, a bit dizzy, and thankfully finds a recliner behind him. He sits and gulps some of the water in his other hand, dry-mouthed. Steve looks concerned and leans forward in his own seat, but doesn't get up quite yet. 

"Buck... are you okay?" 

He lets slide this particular slip-up of his nickname. In this moment, he feels like "Bucky." It's okay to be called that right now. 

"'S nothing, just... vertigo. I remember that day at the stadium," he utters, setting his glass down and pinching the bridge of his nose. He huffs a breathless laugh, forcing air out. "I musta pissed off a whole bunch of goons for getting that ball signed before their autograph books." 

Steve seems overjoyed. He bounces a little in his seat, nodding and smiling. "I remember! One guy even tried to pick a fight with you for shoving him aside. I was about to duck into the crowd to help you, but you talked your way out of it, then came back. I remember thinking how my mouth always got me into trouble, and yours always got you out of it." 

Bucky laughs a bit, more genuine now. He nods. "I never understood why you wouldn't just let things go, avoided fights altogether. But after you got me out of that Hydra base and we formed the Commandos, I finally understood. Sometimes, no matter how small, good things for anyone's sake are worth fighting for." 

There's a pause, during which Bucky gets a bit embarrassed and looks down at his water, sipping it idly, and Steve stares at him, seeing something in him that Bucky isn't sure is there yet. 

"You are worth fighting for, you know," Steve replies after a while, and it makes Bucky's head jerk up so quickly he almost thinks he hears his neck crack. "After I knew you were alive, it took longer than I said it did to find you, and I fought a lot of people along the way. People who wanted you dead, people who wanted me dead, people who wanted to bring Hydra back and capture you again, and people who thought I was turning my back on SHIELD for going after you. I knocked a lot of heads, but seeing you again was worth it. And now, having you here... it's almost like old times, and that's worth all the more." 

Bucky doesn't know what to say. He feels his ears burn and his heart picking up speed. His heart has felt dead for years now, hollow and carved out, stony in his chest. But in this moment, he remembers what it is to have Steve Rogers as a best friend, and the way it feels to be cared about. He gapes at Steve in wonder. 

He shifts a bit in his seat, suddenly awkward about what he confessed, and looks away, but Bucky stands and asks before sitting on the couch, "Mind if I join you?" 

Steve says, "Not at all," and scoots over to one side. Bucky joins him on the sofa, and picks up a photo nearby. It's a framed newspaper clipping. 

"Tell me about The Avengers." 

Steve snorts a laugh and takes the frame from him. "This was a gag gift from Pepper Potts. She sent one to all of us. It's the only photo, I think, of all of The Avengers at once. It was right after we saved New York from an alien invasion - Can you believe that? _Aliens!_ Like something out of _The Adventures of Buck Rogers_ , and do you remember the jokes we'd name about his name and ours? Heheh - and anyway, some bold survivor snapped the photo on their phone and sent it to the newspaper." 

"What's it like, working with other superheroes?" Bucky remarks, less sarcastically than he normally would. The difference of then and now makes Steve feel an ache of nostalgia. 

"Oh, I wouldn't call us _that_ ," Steve shrugs. "Super-soldier serum or not, I'm only a man. I can be killed. Stark, without his suit, is not much different. Natasha and Barton are skilled agents, but nothing super-powered in the least. And Dr. Banner is more or less a civilian who got himself into a big mess. If any of us, I think Thor might be the superhero; he's the one who's from another world and is more than a man." 

"Even so, the six of you took down an entire army, _plus_ a tyrant, as far as I was told. That's beyond impressive, and plenty super to me," Bucky nudges, and the small bump to Steve's arm is the first contact Bucky has initiated on his own. Steve smiles brightly. 

"Heh, well, we didn't do all the work. I got the local authorities to help, too," and he shakes his head. "That whole thing felt like a blur. It wasn't until I was leaving on my motorcycle later that it sunk in that all of that actually happened." 

Bucky nods sympathetically and runs a hand through his hair, forgetting he has it back in a low ponytail, and a few strands spring loose. 

"Have you ever thought about getting it cut?" Steve asks casually, showing no preference, merely curious. 

"Not yet," Bucky murmurs. It's gotten pretty long. "Not until I feel like I can match the man who wore it short." 

"That's not fair to you, Bucky," Steve frowns. "You're still you. And you can't try to live up to whatever ideal you think you used to embody. Just because you think you did some bad things -" 

"I did, Steve. I killed people, good people," Bucky reminds darkly. 

"-But that wasn't you! You weren't in control -" 

"How many times do I have to tell you? It _was_ me!" Bucky stands and raises his voice, hands flinging up into the air. "I did those things, and I can't deny that! Just because you're in denial about the ugly shit, doesn't mean I am. I acknowledge that I was the Winter Soldier and I did horrible things, God-awful things like _presidential assassinations_ and nearly killing _you_!" He's trembling. He clenches his hands into fists to reign it in. He lowers his voice, but it decays into broken near-whispers. "I have to live with it, and I have to accept that I have a lot to make up for before I can feel like my true self again." 

Steve stands and embraces Bucky so quickly Bucky has no time to protest. It's odd, not stooping down to be eyelevel with Steve, or tucking his head atop Steve's. All of his memories that are the clearest are of pre-serum Steve. All of his memories after being rescued the first time are hazy and a rush of explosions and marches and slipping behind trees and being in the bitter cold. Mostly, he remembers the cold and nothing else when it comes to post-serum Steve. 

This is not cold at all. 

Bucky succumbs a little too easily to the hug, relaxing his fists, then his jaw, then shutting his eyes. He waits several heartbeats - spiked as they are - before he raises his arms and grips Steve tightly, too tight to breathe properly, and Steve seems to be going gently on him, as if afraid of breaking him. It used to be the other way around. 

"I'm not in denial about the ugly shit," Steve murmurs into Bucky's hair. "I think about it every night. Some nights I can't sleep. I regret so much, Buck. I regret not letting myself grieve my parents, and now I can't muster the tears to. I regret not acting faster to catch you before you fell. I regret pushing you to join the Commandos, even though I could tell you didn't want to go back to any sort of warfront. I regret every person I've lost, and all of the time I've lost with everyone I once knew. But there's nothing I can do, and I don't know how to deal with it all, so I try to focus on everything current that I can, because it's all I can do." 

"You're so fucked up, Steve," Bucky half-laughs, half-dry-sobs. "They really did a number on you." 

"Hey," Steve says with a slight smile, pulling away enough to look Bucky in the eye, his hands lingering around Bucky's elbows, "Speak for yourself." And there are the start of tears in his eyes, although none have fallen. 

Bucky mock-punches Steve's bicep, "Shut up, punk," and then wraps his arms around Steve once more. "I wasn't done." 

"Now that sounds like the Bucky I know," the captain remarks softly, rubbing a circle around Bucky's back. Bucky's metal arm is heating against Steve's shirt. "I knew you were still in there the second I saw your face, and I wasn't wrong. So you can't doubt yourself anymore, got it?" 

"I got it. Can't really argue when you just poured your fuckin' guts out, can I?" Bucky replies as he gives Steve a squeeze. "And just for that, you can call me Bucky again. Any time you please." 

"Didn't I already?" 

Bucky just laughs as he pulls away, and then Steve gestures to the kitchen. 

"Now, are you hungry? There's some grub I'm sure I can rustle up in there. Pasta, most likely." 

"I'm up for anything you want to make," is the answer as he follows Steve into the tiny kitchen. 

And they never have that same argument again, and both of them stop apologizing about the past. They have a future together again, and that's all that matters.


End file.
